Page 34 of Satin Empire

“Momma,” he babbles and it’s just about the cutest thing in the world.

“Hi, baby. I’m leaving you with Aunt Allegra while I go find Aunt Maddie, okay? Keep playing with Cassie.”

The boy wriggles and squeals. Molly puts him down and we continue our journey, heading down a path between flower beds, all of them absolutely overflowing with plant life, most of it towering so high that it cuts off my view of the house.

“Feels like another world back here,” I say, actually kind of breathless with how beautiful it is.

“Maddie’s sort of obsessed. She calls it an English-style garden? Which I guess means it’s a total mess or whatever.” Molly shrugs and waves a hand. “It’s not my thing, but we all love her to death and it looks amazing, so I don’t care what she calls it. And I know this all seems overwhelming and stuff, but don’t worry, we’ve all been there. Maddie was the first one, she married Renzo, then Allegra and then me, and now you’re nailing down the last of them. If you feel super weird, just remember that I felt exactly the way you do like a couple years ago and—oh, hey, there she is.”

Molly stops talking and waves. Up ahead, Maddie’s standing next to a flower bed with another one of those bushes from the front of the house lying on its side, this one smaller ready to be planted. The Don’s wife is wearing faded jeans, a denim button-down shirt, and she’s covered in dirt. When she wipes her forehead, she leaves a dark brown smear across her face, and doesn’t seem to mind when Molly points it out.

“I’d hug you, but that top looks cute and I don’t want to ruin it, so let’s settle for a handshake for now.” She beams at me and I feel strangely at ease with her. “Did Molly tell you what’s up?”

“Left that to you, boss,” Molly says, grinning like a maniac.

“Okay, here’s the deal.” Maddie stabs the shovel into the earth and leans on it. “I plant a bush for everyone in this family. Stella, their mom, she likes them and it just turned into a tradition. Which means this is your bush.”

“Oh,” I say, staring at the big old plant on the ground. I’m not really interested in gardening, and the last houseplant I had died because I watered it too much and drowned the stinking thing, but this is a really nice gesture.

“Yep, and now you have to help me put it in.”

“That’s part of the tradition,” Molly says, nodding along like she’s enjoying herself.

“Uh, sure, but you have to tell me what to do.”

“No worries. It’s easy!”

And it’s not easy. I mean, not really. We maneuver the bush into position, which takes a whole lot of cursing and carrying and moving around, until Maddie makes me get down on my knees in the dirt and cover the roots up. Then we water the thing, and it’s finally done. I’m sweaty and my knees are muddy, and when the girls put their arms around me and I stare at my bush, I feel a strange sense of dislocation and melancholy.

I don’t have anything like this at my stepdad’s place. He couldn’t wait to get rid of me—and here’s Maddie, memorializing me with a bush, and she doesn’t even know me. The contrast between my family and this family is almost painful, and I have to fight back against tears as the girls take me back to the house, pour me some iced tea, and start gossiping.

Chapter 17

Alana

When Carlo finds me a couple hours later, I feel like I know more about the Rossi family than I do about my own. The girls aren’t shy about it at all, since Allegra says I have a right to “hear about the crazy.” Mostly they tell me about Mrs. Rossi and her Alzheimer’s and how it’s gotten much worse over the last year. Carlo never talks about her, and I had no clue it was that far along.

“You look like you just got your brain crammed in with a hammer,” Carlo says as he steers me back through the house. “Were the girls nice?”

“Really, really nice,” I confirm and want to ask him how he’s doing, how he’s handling everything with his mom, but I keep my mouth shut. That’s his story to tell and his pain to share if he ever wants to, but I have a pretty good idea what it’s like to lose someone important, even if what’s happening to his mother is very different from the quick cancer diagnosis that took my gran.

“Sorry I dumped you with them but I was picking up your surprise.” He pauses with me in the foyer and turns to face me.

“Wait, what surprise?” I look around like someone’s about to come jumping out of a side room.

“You still plan on working, right? Unfortunately, we’re still technically at war, and now that you’re my wife, you could become a target. It’s unlikely, but I can’t have you moving around the city unprotected. So I bought you something.”

I screw up my face, trying to compute. “Are you about to give me a bulletproof vest or something?”

“Better than that.” He opens the door and walks outside, gesturing down to the driveway. “There you go.”

I stand next to him, frowning. At first, I don’t understand. His truck’s parked where we left it, but there’s another SUV down at the base of the steps. It’s big and black with shiny chrome wheels and a glittering paintjob, clearly something fancy and high-end. But I don’t see my surprise.

Until he drops the keys in my hand.

“Hold on,” I say, staring at the black fob then up at him. “Seriously?”

He nods like it’s no big deal. “I’m sure it’s not what you wanted, but the thing’s a freaking tank. Bulletproof glass, bulletproof doors, and a bomb-resistant undercarriage. The front and back are pure steel, meaning you can ram the shit out of people and smash through them like a monster truck if you want. Plus, it’s got Bluetooth and airbags.”

---